


your heart is the only place i call home

by passionesque



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Clato - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Smut, and like clato in a vikings setting would be hella cool okay, basically the viking au no one wanted, i just saw alex ludwig on vikings and i wanted to write the hell out of this, this is terribly self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionesque/pseuds/passionesque
Summary: She doesn’t need to talk to the blond to know that he is arrogant and obnoxious. She has seen him walking about with his lackeys, laughing and playing and chasing after every skirt that walks past. The fact she has to marry someone like that makes her glare deepen.OR: the arranged marriage viking au no one wanted except me.
Relationships: Cato & Clove (Hunger Games), Cato/Clove (Hunger Games)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is totally self indulgent, gratuitous and terribly inaccurate. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ about this is historically correct or anything. I saw Alexander Ludwig in Vikings and this is the result. This is just me writing about my favourite pairing in a trashy setting. That's it. So, to set things up properly (even tho 99% of this is garbage and filth and domestic fluff), names have to be altered. 
> 
> Cato - Kato, Clove - Klo. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**i.**

“You will marry him.” 

“I do not like blondes,” she counters, tilting her chin. 

“Neither do I like ungrateful daughters but here you are.”

Klo presses her lips into a thin line. “I don’t want this.”

“It will be good,” her father says, “You’re old enough and Kato is an Earl’s son—his firstborn son, mind you. It is a good match the gods have blessed us with. The Seer has said so.”

She scowls. “But I don’t want to marry Kato. He’s arrogant and I do not like him.”

“Have you talked to him before?”

“No.”

She doesn’t need to talk to the blond to know that he is arrogant and obnoxious. She has seen him walking about with his lackeys, laughing and playing and chasing after every skirt that walks past. The fact she has to marry someone like that makes her glare deepen.

Her father snorts and waves his hand dismissively. “You need a strong hand, daughter.”

“I don’t want to marry Kato,” she repeats firmly. A strong hand? She doesn’t need to be managed! She doesn’t need to be ordered about like a slave for that is what will happen if they’re bound. “Please reconsider, father.”

“You will and you shall. My word is final.”

Klo shifts and glances away, fists clenching.

It is later that she formally meets her husband-to-be and no, he doesn’t surprise nor impress her. In fact, he does her memory well when he stares coolly at her. His blue eyes take her in blankly as he does the customary bow and greeting. Furthermore, Kato doesn’t offer any assurance or any signs of welcome when he sits on her right as their families dine. Instead, he is silent throughout the meal.

That’s alright with her. She doesn’t want to talk to him either.

Despite the silence hanging between them, Klo doesn’t miss the way he sends flirty looks to the serving girls who flush prettily under his attention. She sniffs disdainfully, eyeing him coolly for the barest of moments before turning away, promptly dismissing him for the rest of the night.

The gods must really hate her, she thinks almost mournfully as she stabs into her food, picturing the blond’s angular face when she cuts into the meat. 

He steals glances at the diminutive brunette, gaze flicking over her form, lingering on the slight curves her dress presents.

His future wife is lovely with an oval shaped face and a pair of big round eyes that sits above a pert nose and a small lush mouth. She is small, tiny compared to him. Kato doesn’t think she even reaches pass his shoulder. However, what she lacks in height she makes up in toned fit curves.

But it is the perpetual scowl her face is set in that makes him frown and hesitate to strike up a conversation. 

Vaguely, he remembers seeing her around the village but he doubts he’s ever talked to her before. He furrows his brows at that. Surely he would have met the only daughter of his father’s most trusted advisor.

Apparently not, at least according to the unimpressed look she gives him when they formally meet for the first time as he bows.

They’ve barely said more than a few sentences and already, he can tell he’s got a lot of work ahead of him. This is further highlighted from the slight grimace that appears on Klo’s face when he slides into place next to her.

Kato narrows his eyes. He doesn’t know what her problem is, considering they’ve never spoken to each other before. More importantly, they are to be married and he is determined to speak to her privately about what is to be expected from their marriage after dinner without prying ears. 

But that fails when she leaves his home the minute the last dish is cleared. All he can do is stare at her retreating form. 

He shifts his jaw and snorts under his breath. Fine. He’s the firstborn son of an Earl—an heir! He isn’t afraid of a challenge, especially when it comes in the form of is his wife-to-be. Furthermore, they live in a village where everyone knew each other. She couldn’t avoid him for long.

“It’s impossible!” he snarls a week later, lunging at his best friend who hastily ducks. “She’s impossible!”

Markvard chuckles, swinging his axe before raising his shield to defend himself from Kato’s anger-fuelled onslaught. 

“She is avoiding me as though I carry some disease!” he continues. “Everytime I manage to find her, she turns and disappears. She isn’t at home when I visit, she’s not at the market or the boats even though her friends swear she is. Basically, she isn’t anywhere!” 

Kato further emphasizes the last sentence with a rather vicious swing of his axe and a shout. Markvard’s shield shudders heavily from the impact and Kato takes the opportunity to jam his elbow into his friend’s gut and knock him to the ground.

He waits for the brown-haired man to get to his feet but all his friend does is remain on the dirt and laugh hysterically. 

“What?” he barks, baring his teeth. 

“Nothing!” Markvard grins, looking too amused for his liking. “Just…” the man shrugs, “Who would’ve thought that it would be  _ you  _ of all people to have women troubles!”

Kato scowls, tightening his grip on the wooden handle of his axe. 

“But I don’t pity you my friend,” Markvard continues, pushing himself upright. “I’m glad for you. With Klo as your wife, you won’t have a boring life, nor a boring bed,” he adds with a lascivious smirk. 

The blond rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to give some jibe in return when he finally catches sight of the ever elusive thorn in his side. He stops, forcing himself not to move an inch, lest the brunette notices him nearby and vanishes into the crowd. 

For once, Klo doesn't seem to realise he’s close as she walks at a leisurely pace towards the market and Kato grabs the opportunity to study her. He runs his eyes over the serene expression on her lightly freckled face, her dark hair curling down her back, the tempting swells of her curves and the hypnotic sway of her hips—

Markvard lets out a long whistle and Kato flushes once he realises he’s been caught staring at his future wife like a boy who’s never seen a naked woman before. 

Unfortunately for him, Klo is near enough to have heard it for she turns in their direction. Dark eyes falling on them, she promptly purses her lips and frowns before turning away with a notedly faster pace. 

Kato glowers and throws his shield to the dirt. He will  _ not _ allow her to give him another snub in public.

“Where have you been?” he demands, blocking her pathway. “I have been looking for you all week.”

“Unlike you, Kato, I have things to do,” Klo retorts, arching a brow. “Things that don’t concern you,” she adds when he opens his mouth to argue. 

“What else could possibly be taking your time? You’re getting married to me, the son of an Earl. You should be having servants to help you.” 

If Kato is hoping that the idea of giving aid to her would ease the brunette’s abrasiveness towards him, he is disappointed when it merely increases her frosty demeanour.

Klo purses her lips. “I know many other women in the village who would love to marry you because of who you are, but I’m not one of them.” 

With that, she stalks off, giving him one last glower over her shoulder and this time, Kato doesn’t bother chasing after her. Not when Markvard’s laughter is ringing through his ears. 

When spring finally approaches, it not only brings back crops and the like but the day of his wedding. 

Secretly, Kato thinks he might remember this day for the rest of his life. He doubts he’ll be able to forget how his bride looks as she dances with their guests. Braided dark hair adorned with flowers, the skirts of her white dress swishing around her legs as she twirls, the rosy flush on her cheeks as she laughs while spinning around the hall with her friends, she’s beautiful.

He might have been less conversational than normal. But that could be due to all the staring at Klo he’s done. Throughout the day and even when they were apart, his eyes would always draw back to her, be it knowingly or not. What can he say? He is a newly married man after all. However, Kato knows it is more than that. 

Never has he expected Klo’s smile to resemble the sun. So bright it was, he’d been transfixed. 

When they are finally alone in their house, he stares at her, wondering if he should make the first move especially when his wife isn’t looking at him but at their new home. While he does have experience, Kato wouldn’t claim that he’s an expert when it comes to deflowering virgins. 

But Klo surprises him when she takes things into her own hands— _ literally _ , he might add—as she presses against him, taking his semi-hardened length with her calloused fingers and begins to palm him through the rough material of his trousers.

His jaw drops and he can’t help himself from reacting when she runs her hands up to his broad chest, tearing his tunic off, exploring the expanse of muscle and scars that line his torso. Her touch is delicate and careful and it sends shivers up his spine. He twitches when he catches the floral scent of her hair while her hands dive back to his hips, dipping under the waistband of his pants.

Kato is utterly flummoxed at the aggressive way Klo takes charge, pushing him towards the bed. So much so, that his brain doesn’t react when she leans on her toes to reach his mouth. However, the softness of her lips against his spurs him into action. 

Although her eagerness has thrown him off, he is careful when he climbs over her on their bed and takes the time to relax her. Klo isn’t shy when he peels off her dress. Instead, she tilts her chin proudly when her pale skin is revealed, as if daring him to say something, which he does not. He doesn’t mind the small scars on her back or the smattering of freckles on her arms or the smaller curves that is her body. He still thinks she’s beautiful. 

Kato has to force himself to remember that this is her first time and he has to be gentle. He doesn’t want to break her. Already the disparity that is their height and size puts him at a disadvantage. Fingers running over slick folds, he waits for her to beg and plead for  _ more _ and  _ yes _ and  _ Kato _ and _ hurry up  _ before he settles between her legs and enters her for the first time. 

It is a stretch and he is ever aware of Klo going rigid beneath him. He gives a helpless little moan from how good she feels around him— _ wet and warm and tight and just so perfect _ —that he has to dig his fingers into the fleshy parts of his palm to steady himself with the pain and not to thrust frantically right away.

He shouldn’t be surprised when she urges him with her heels while she pants into his ear to go faster and harder a few minutes later. Kato is starting to realise that when it comes to his wife (he still can hardly believe that he has one) the brunette doesn’t do things by halves. 

With Klo’s nails clawing into his back and her meeting his rapidly thrusting hips, he finally gives over to instinct and practically fucks her into the bed. Lithe legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his hands running over Klo’s sweat-slicked skin while she groans his name into his ear and with the added factor of him being balls deep inside her, he thinks he might actually be in paradise. 

When he finally spills into her with a deafening roar, he slumps to her side, body shaking from how fucking good that had been. Blinking hard, Kato stares up at the ceiling as aftershocks of pleasure thrums through his veins, causing him to jerk occasionally. When his heart calms down, he turns to Klo, snaking a hand around her tiny waist to haul her flush against him.

By now, Klo is dead to the world as she huddles closer to his form for warmth. He isn’t far off from sleep either but his last conscious thought is that Markvard is absolutely right. 

Klo doesn’t think married life is all that bad when Kato makes her see stars when he buries his face between her thighs. Or when he brings her as close as possible to Valhalla with his large form crushing her, hips pounding frantically while he leaves opened-mouth kisses along her throat.

Of course, that all changes the next morning when he tells her that he doesn’t like the meal she’s taken all morning to prepare for him and that it’s better if she doesn’t do it that way in the future.

She gapes at him for a good while, mouth falling open. When he makes a move to leave without having taken more than a bite, her teeth clicks shut as righteous fury creeps onto her cheeks.

Utterly incensed, she grabs a bowl off the table and hurls it right at his head.

The satisfaction that action brings her is more than enough, especially when Kato stares gobsmacked at her as porridge drips down his face. It almost makes up for the way he roars at her after.

Almost.

That act of defiance isn’t enough. Not in Klo’s opinion. 

She doesn’t know how to be a wife. Let alone, a wife of the future Earl of their village. Already, she was trying her best and here her efforts were so easily looked aside, practically thrown in her face. She fumes, narrowing her eyes. 

That evening, she sets down some roasted meat in front of her husband who merely grunts and begins to tear into his meal before he promptly chokes and spits his mouthful out. 

“What? Why is it so salty?” he demands, turning red from all the coughing he’s done.

“You said the porridge from this morning was too bland,” she says innocently, blinking her eyes. “So I thought maybe you would like your food to be saltier.”

Kato glares as a muscle twitches in his cheek. “You don’t fool me!” he growls, rising to his feet. 

She slyly edges around the table, moving closer towards the door. 

“What do you mean?”

“Stop it!” he snaps. “I don’t know what you’re angry about—“

Her eyes flash at that and she gives up the doe-eye act. Klo hisses, almost spitting when she throws an empty wooden bowl in his direction. She knows she shouldn’t. Kato is her husband and by law, it means that she is his property and must obey him. 

But she doesn’t care. Plus, she knows that despite the arrogance and self-importance he carries about, Kato is mostly harmless. She knows with great certainty that he will never hit her unlike some of the men in their village. So, she pitches a cup at him and enjoys the yelp he emits when it bounces off his head with a  _ thwack _ . 

“I order you to stop!” he yells, rounding around the table, using the advantage that is his large form to corner her against the wall. ‘I am your husband! You—”

“Get off!” she growls, slamming her palms on his chest while she knees at his thighs, “Don’t touch me!” 

The anger fades and a slow smile creeps onto his face. Kato chuckles lowly, smirking when he runs his hands down her sides, lingering on the sides of her breasts and her hips, pressing closer. “That’s not what you said last night,  _ wife _ .”

She hates herself for responding when he picks her up, pulling her legs around his waist as he rubs his heavy aching length against her heat. Her body shudders at his hardness, clearly remembering with vivid clarity the events of the night before. Klo squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of having her begging and moaning. 

“Open for me,” he murmurs huskily into the skin of her neck. 

She doesn’t reply but clenches her thighs around his waist and claws her fingers into his arms—a silent plea. 

Kato gets it and he groans, mouth delving down to her collarbones as his hands push her dress up and loosen the ties of his trousers. In no time, he sinks into her with a hoarse curse and she mewls, throwing her head back against the wall while rocking eagerly along with him. 

Unlike their coupling from last night, this is wild, frantic—animalistic. 

Kato is rough and punishing, hips snapping into her with a ferocity that makes her toes curl and her breath to catch. His fingers squeeze and grab and she’s sure she will find finger-shaped bruises on her hips come morning. 

Klo is loathed to admit that she loves it this way. But she also likes the languorous pace he sets when they settle back in bed amongst the furs. This way, she can feel him acutely, every ridge and bump of his heavy length stretching her wide and gliding in deep. She sighs, lashes fluttering shut as every fibre of her being is set aflame from the rhythmic movements of his hips, of his wandering hands that further stroke the fire where they are so intimately joined.

Neither of them are surprised when she shatters with a hoarse cry within seconds of his thumb flicking at her clit and he, not a minute later when she milks him for all that he’s worth. 

It is odd, she realises a week later, that they’re ridiculously compatible in bed, but resort to quarrelling and petty fights when it comes to everything else.

Kato may have stopped complaining about her food ever since she’d turned the tables on him, forcing him to cook when she steadfastly refuses. The end result had been them staring in wordless fascination at the blackened lump of meat he’d prepared. However, that incident doesn’t rid him of his overbearing attitude and the arrogance that he wears like a layer of second skin.

Naturally, it isn’t long before Klo finds herself at odds with her husband once again. She grunts, scrubbing at the stubborn muddy stain on the coarse woollen pants and curses him with all her might with the gods as her witness. 

Did the man have to roll around on the ground like some heathen with no regard to the welfare of his clothes? 

“Who are you cursing so violently?” 

“You,” she bites out, not even bothering to give him a glance as she wrings one of his shirts and tosses it into a pail. 

“What did I do now?” Kato sounds resigned as he comes to a stop at her side. 

“Your clothes are filthy.” She looks up and wipes at her cheek with the hem of her sleeves. “Did you sit in the mud all day?” 

“Actually, yes,” he informs her, shrugging. “Some of the men wanted to fight.”

How unfair it is, that the men get to play while she is stuck at home doing chores or finding her friends to weave fabric. She can’t even remember the last time she’d fought or practiced with her knives. And no, the kitchen knives didn’t count. Though she was getting better at slicing meat. 

Kato frowns, “What’s with that look on your face?” 

She stares up at him and blurts out the first thing that came to mind. “I didn’t want to marry you, you know.”

The blond scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know. It would be pretty hard not to see how much you resent me.” 

“I don’t resent you,” she says coolly, not missing the way her husband’s brows raise. “I just don’t know you. And I miss my freedom of not being bound, of not having to keep house, of not having a husband.”

“Many have married under far worse conditions,” he replies amiably, running a hand through his hair that was shorn at the sides of his head. “You’re lucky.” 

“Why?” her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes. Of course the man wouldn’t get it. “Because you’re the son of an Earl? That you’re his heir? That when you become Earl, I’ll be a Countess?” 

His eyes flash at the derision dripping from her words. “Yes,” he snaps, eyes narrowing. “I could have any woman here, but the gods gave me you.” 

Just when she’s starting to think the man she’s bound to couldn't get more obnoxious and full of himself, he goes ahead and proves her wrong. 

Klo grits her teeth, and stares him down despite him towering over her by a fair height. “You should know that I don’t care about any of that. I wouldn’t even want to marry you even if you’re a king. In fact,” she pauses, angling her body to the side to leave, but not without giving her last parting shot. “If I loved a farmer, I’d gladly marry him over you.” 

The silence she leaves in her wake is deafening but Klo doesn’t care. She is too caught up in the heaviness of her heart and the loss of her freedom to realise that Kato’s expression has gone stony.

Kato’s sullen mood that appears over the next few days gradually starts to become unbearable and briefly, she wonders if she’s crossed some line she hasn’t been aware of. Her husband is awfully quiet and brooding, a sharp contrast to his usual playful and buoyant nature that used to make her snort and shake her head. 

However, this Kato that has made an appearance overnight, the one with mercurial moods that shift so easily like sand blowing in the wind, Klo doesn’t know what to make of him. She is unsure and a tad hesitant of how to react and behave. Hence, she takes the coward’s way out, preferring to keep out of his path rather than take the time to figure out how his mind works. 

But when she sees him giving crooked smiles to the serving women in their village hall a few days later, an unfamiliar twinge makes its presence known and she lowers her eyes to her food. She doesn’t know what to make of the sinking bitter feeling in her stomach, only that its presence is unwelcome. 

Surely she can’t be feeling  _ jealous _ over Kato. 

Turning away, she cuts her meat and chews, doing her best to squash the uneasy squirming sensation in her heart. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. Klo grimaces and shakes her head. Marriage is definitely making her brain rot. The gods must have had an oversight when they paired her with her husband. 

When the dishes are cleared and music starts to echo around the hall, Klo moves to a corner, a drink in hand. Her friends are off dancing with their respective husbands or suitors and she watches them fondly, reminiscing about the days she’d been that carefree. 

She does not look towards the table Kato sits with his friends.

The confusion that is her heart still bears heavily on her mind and Klo would rather reflect and think on her contrary feelings without interference. 

That doesn’t happen when a sandy haired man approaches her. She straightens. Klo recognises him as one of Kato’s friends and offers him a small murmured greeting which, he returns with a broad smile. Instantly, she relaxes a little, warmed by the sincere grin he gives. 

“How have you been, Klo?” 

She raises a brow. “Fine. Why?”

“I was just asking.” Markvard says good-naturedly. “And I wanted to say that Kato is blessed immensely by the gods to have someone like you as his wife.” 

Klo snorts and rolls her eyes. “Did he put you up to tell me this?”

“No, it’s true and I mean it,” the man shrugs, grinning, white teeth flashing as he speaks. “No one has ever really stood up to him except you.” 

“Except me,” she echoes, brows furrowing. 

“Of course. He tells me everything.” Markvard comments in amusement as he sips from his own cup. “But I would admit that you getting the better of him is the highlight of my days. He is rather infuriating, no?”

She throws her head back in laughter at that, fully agreeing. Finally someone who agrees with that particular sentiment. 

A hand grabbing her arm causes her to turn and Klo is met with Kato’s furious glare boring down at her. Markvard’s muted greeting makes his grip on her wrist tighten and all she can do is blink up at him in surprise. 

“We’re leaving.  _ Now _ ,” he barks and tugs her out of the hall. 

The first thing Kato does when they get home is to slam her back against the wall. She inhales sharply, arousal stirring at the look in his eyes and the way he noses at her chest. With quick sharp tugs, her dress falls to the ground, soft cotton pooling around her feet as her pale freckled flesh is revealed. 

No words needed to be said when Kato leads them to the bed and shoves her down. 

Her thighs clench and Klo bites her bottom lip anticipatorily. It is going to be one of those times where Kato is deliciously rough. She shivers, fingers curling into the furs when he hovers over her waiting form. With bated breath, she squirms, hips rocking eagerly when rough calloused fingers dance over her slick folds with familiarity and dexterity. 

Klo releases a small moan when he enters her and starts a brutal pace that makes their bed creak. Clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as he grunts and pants into her ear, she meets his every thrust, doing her best to chase after the path leading to Valhalla on earth. 

“Look at me.” Kato commands harshly, abruptly pulling back as his hips paused. 

Mind hazy with pleasure, she does and stares into Kato’s hard blue eyes. 

Why is he talking? She frowns and squints. More importantly, why isn’t he moving? Insistently and impatiently, she urges him with her ankles, scowling at him when he still refuses to budge. Klo opens her mouth, more than ready to voice her displeasure when Kato cuts in, eyes flashing. 

“You may not like me,” he snarls, fingers clenching tightly onto her hips. “But you,” he gives a particular rough thrust into her that makes her back arch, “and your body,” his hips pound forcefully and she gives a keening moan, “are mine!”

She doesn’t have the opportunity to respond when he begins to fuck her like a beast rutting into its mate in heat. There in the dark, movements frantic and wild, it’s as though he wants to leave his mark on her, to remind her that she is taken, that she belongs to him and no other, that it is him that is guiding her to the stars. 

Later, she watches him as he dozes off, eyes tracing the features of him she considers handsome, down to the heavy arm curled around her naked waist in a manner she deems as possessive. Her gaze drifts to the dark ink swirling on the side of his neck, the silver chain carrying a knotted pendant that rests in the hollow of his throat before focusing back on his face. Observing the minute movements he makes in his sleep, she furrows her brows and wrinkles her nose.

Klo doesn’t think she will ever understand Kato. 


	2. Chapter 2

**ii.**

It would be easy to say that after close to two seasons, Klo is acclimated to married life with Kato. 

She knows she is lucky. Klo isn’t blind to the way some of her friends are treated by their families and husbands. While Kato may be overbearing, he is mostly all bark and no bite. Furthermore, as the days passed, she’d seen the gentler side of him, not to mention the playful ease he adopts in his everyday life. But that doesn’t mean the territorial instinct that lies dormant beneath his skin has never made an appearance.

There are instances she asks for it.

She shivers, resisting the urge to touch the tender sore part at the side of her neck that Kato had worried with his teeth the night before. Involuntarily, her sex clenches and she forces back the memory of how hard and fast and perfect it’d been.

Hate-sex, a friend had supplied for what went on between them. 

Klo purses her lips as she sharpens the blades on the dining table. She doesn’t think the term is accurate for she doesn’t hate Kato. In fact, it is quite the opposite. She might actually be starting to grow fond of him. 

By now, they’ve established a routine of sorts. While her mornings and nights belong to Kato, her days are hers and hers alone. Usually, she spends the time practicing weaving, doing chores or if she’s lucky, training with the other shield-maidens in the village. If Kato is aware of the latter, he doesn’t say anything.

She has just sharpened one of her blades to perfection when the door bursts open and she jumps. 

“Kato…” her voice trails off when she sees the grim lines of determination on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t leave the house,” he commands, pulling on his armour and grabbing the spare axe leaning against the wall. “I mean it, Klo.”

“What’s happening?” she repeats, rising to her feet and following him to the door. “What’s going on?”

The blond turns, cold hard anger in his eyes. “We’re under attack. One of our neighbours has come.” 

She gapes but forces her mind to quit running and to focus. “Let me come, Kato, I can fight—”

“No!” he snaps, eyes flashing as he glares. “I order you to stay home.” 

Before she can reply, he slams the door shut behind him, leaving her to stare at the grains of the wood. 

Scowling, she grabs the sharpened knives from the table, along with her shield and her axe. Damn her husband. She is a shield-maiden and she isn’t afraid of battle. She will not hide and cower when the enemy came. Klo will defend her home and her people just like any other warriors from the village. She has been trained for it.

It isn’t hard to find the skirmish. All she has to do is follow the sounds of battle and the screams.

Pitching her knives at unsuspecting targets, she kills about five hulking men before she has to dive into the fight with just her knife and an axe. Her shield, she abandons for she relies on her smaller size for speed and agility to avoid blows to her person.

Blood sprays across her face when she slashes at a man’s jugular with a serrated blade and Klo revels in the hot sticky liquid on her skin. How long has it been since she’d been in a fight like this? Around her, men and women engage in battle, weapons striking, screams and shouts sounding as fighters from both sides fall. 

It isn’t long before the attack ends as quickly as it had begun. They are victorious. 

Other than the graze of a sword along her forearm, Klo has come out of battle mostly unscathed. She smirks, tossing her hair over her shoulders but freezes when she spots her husband gawking at her from the other side of the field.

Kato’s reaction to seeing her in the midst of blood and carnage is priceless. 

He turns red. Or at least, redder than he was. Without a word, he shoves past his fighters, pushing the occasional men from his path to get to her. Klo purses her mouth and waits for the verbal and very public dressing down he is bound to give. 

Much to her surprise, Kato merely scans her from head to toe and when finding her satisfactory, he grips his fingers around her bicep and leads her home forcefully. 

Only when they are alone and away from curious eyes that the blond erupts. 

“YOU DARE DEFY ME?” 

She shifts her weight from one to the other and stays silent, meeting the fury in his blue eyes.

Kato growls and grabs her by the shoulders. “What were you thinking? Didn’t I tell you not to leave the house?” he roars and starts to shake her frantically. “You deliberately disobeyed me!”

She hisses and slams her fists against his chest. “Get your hands off me!” she snaps, glowering up at the tall blond. “I did nothing wrong!” 

“Yes, you did!” he counters, a vein throbbing on his forehead. “You are my wife and you are to obey me! You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Scoffing, she slaps his hands away. “I am a shield-maiden. I know the risks and I will not sit back and hide when our people are in danger!” 

Kato snarls, baring his teeth when he begins to corner her against the wall. “Of course the gods would give me a wife that can’t do anything but argue and disobey!”

Unlike their arguments of the past, Klo will not give in. Nor would she allow herself to be tempted by Kato’s skillful wandering hands or be a slave to her own urges. 

And then, his words registered in her mind. Klo stills, eyes narrowing as she pushes herself away from him, ducking under arms whose intentions were to cage her. Indignation rises and she inhales sharply and clenches her fists. 

“Is that what you really think?” she asks hotly, settling herself on the opposite end of the table. “That I’m quarrelsome and disobedient just to spite you?” 

Kato laughs scornfully, as he rubs at his jaw. “Of course! From the moment we’ve been bound, you do nothing but argue and fight and that only stops when you’re in my bed!”

She flushes more from anger, ignoring the dark look sent her way and how her legs are squeezed together. Instead, she forces herself to focus on the accusations he’s hurled.

So that’s what he really thought about her? She presses her lips into a thin line and tilts her chin defiantly.

“Fine!” she snaps. “If that’s what you really want from me, I’ll give it!”

“What?” Kato blinks, drawing back slightly as though he can’t believe what she has just agreed to.

“You want sheer obedience and not to be questioned or argued with? Your wish will be granted!”

The blond barks out a laugh as he shakes his head and removes his bloodstained shirt. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Klo fumes, narrowing her eyes. Stubborn pride and determination filling her veins. She’ll show him.

“The weather is absolutely perfect today,” he says, eyeing the small form of his wife warily. 

“Yes,” she agrees, setting a bowl of food down in front of him. “You are right, husband. It is absolutely perfect,” Klo echoes with a bland smile on her face. 

Kato shifts in his seat and glowers at his meal. 

Truthfully, the weather is dismal with its harsh winds and thunderous rain.

“Perfect enough for a stroll in the market?” he mocks, taking a mouthful of food. “Do you really think so?” 

Klo nods, blinking wide green eyes at him. “Of course, surely if you think it is fine, it must be.” 

A muscle at the corner of his eye twitches and he barely bites back the snarl that struggles to be free at the back of his throat. He has had enough of Klo and the stupid subservient act she’s been putting on for the past three weeks. 

He knows his wife, both on the inside and outside. Or at least he hopes so. Regardless, Kato knows that Klo is the antithesis of obedient. For the months they’ve been bound, his tiny brunette wife has been anything but silent when it came to her opinions. Sometimes, he still thinks he can feel his head throbbing from the times where she’d thrown household items at him. 

For a woman of her stature, he has to admit Klo has excellent aim. 

The past days have been utter torture. 

He has tried everything, said the stupidest aisine things that come to mind, carried out actions she’d scolded him for in the past, all the while hoping for her to finally snap and yell at him. Kato had tried complaining about the food not being up to his standards and Klo would simply apologise and cook his meal from scratch. He’d even dunked himself in dirt and when he came home dripping mud all over the floors, Klo had merely asked if he had a good day while she cleaned up after him. 

Kato knows he shouldn’t complain. After all, this is what he wanted, an obedient wife who caters to everything he says and wants. And it’s not like Klo is denying his needs. She still reacts the same when he iniates sex, all moans and greedy touches when when they are in bed.

He is pretty sure the men in the village would envy him should they know. 

However, at this point, he hates to admit it but Kato loathes this docile mindless version of his wife. He longs to see sparks of fire in her dark eyes and hear the sharpness of her tongue. He wants Klo to voice her displeasure, no matter how small or trivial the issue. 

He thinks he won’t even mind if she decides to throw things at his head again. In fact, he’ll get on his knees to beg for her to do so if he thought it would help. 

Basically, he just wants his wife back.

Kato drums his fingers against the edge of the table, taking in his wife with a narrow gaze. He searches those big green eyes carefully. Surely, Klo is getting tired of this stupid act of hers. Knowing her as much as he does, he doubts she can continue being this agreeable any longer.

“Klo, I was thinking,” he pauses and waits for some acerbic remarks about how he doesn’t have a brain or if he even knows the meaning of the word. 

But none comes. 

“Yes?” 

He notes the usage of ‘yes’ and not ‘what’ and deflates a little. 

“I was thinking maybe we should move to the outskirts. I will ask my father for some land and I’ll be a farmer. What do you think?”

Klo blinks and shrugs, mending what he suspects are his trousers. “If that’s what you’ll like. I will just follow you.”

He barely manages to suppress the urge to flinch and wring her bony neck. Slowly, he scans his eyes over her face, seeking out for any glint of delight in her gaze, or a tiny smirk on her mouth that shows her enjoyment of his torment or discomfort. 

Again, he doesn’t find any.

Truthfully, if it weren’t for the aggressive way Klo responds to him when he’s being rough in their bed, Kato would swear on the gods that his wife has been replaced. 

“You do not have any opinion on that?” he prompts, leaning closer. 

“No. I trust in your decision. Who am I to question my husband?” Klo answers strongly and it is the conviction in her words that makes him snap.

Red haze falling over his eyes, he snarls and abandons his meal. Furiously, he grabs a set of Klo’s knives and slams it onto the table, glaring, daring her to say or do anything that will further provoke his fury. Although he does hope she would. 

“Fight me!” he growls, shoving the leather pack in her direction. “Fight me now!”

Klo furrows her brows, not looking away from her mending. “Kato, what are you talking about? I cannot fight my husband—“

“You can and you will!” he grits through his teeth, “I order you to! Do not tell me you won’t. You have to obey me!”

That finally garners her attention. Klo raises her brows, blinking big green eyes at him. “You want me to fight you?” 

“YES!”

“Why?”

“Stop asking questions!” 

She stares at him and for a moment, Kato feels like a complete idiot when she pins him with that one look. “Do it!” he insists, rising to his feet. “Fight me now! I command you to!”

He doesn’t wait for Klo to make the first move. He knows with certainty that all this is a punishment, which he has to admit is an ideal one. There isn’t a doubt he has to admit being wrong and he admires the cunning and genius that is Klo. Still, he is sure she wants him to strike first, hence, countering his argument of her being disobedient and argumentative. 

Fuck. But at this point, he’ll practically do anything to get her back.

So, he lunges towards her, pushing her against the wooden walls of their home, though he takes care not being too harsh or rough. When his counterpart doesn’t make a move, he heads toward his next plan. 

“If you don’t fight me now, you will prove to me that you are too weak and not worth the title of being a shield-maiden,” he taunts into her face, arms trapping her against him. “Maybe you are just all talk and nothing else. With—”

Klo growls, baring her teeth as her eyes flash. 

Finally!

She doesn’t reply but slams her elbow into his gut and pairing that with a hard fist to the soft spot under his jaw. Kato stumbles back, but is fast enough to defend himself from her fast onslaught of being whacked with an iron poker from their fireplace. 

He resists snorting when he wrenches the makeshift weapon away and quickly advances on his wife who skirts around the room and brandishes a wooden board, pitching it at him. Ducking just in time as the projectile sails above his head, he grins when she shrieks at him, curses and swears flying off her tongue. Distantly, Kato wonders how long she’s been waiting to unleash that torrent of insults for it is quite a mouthful. 

“I swear to the gods that you will curse the day—“

When she manages to catch him with a knee against his thigh, he decides that he has had enough. Klo’s knees are too accurate when it comes to aiming at a certain anatomy he is sure she adores the most from him. Luckily, this time, she misses. Barely. 

Snaking a hand around her waist, he jerks her close and hauls her up and tosses her over his shoulder. 

As expected, Klo doesn’t take that well for she resorts to playing dirty. She pinches, scratches, pulls on his hair but when she bites into his arm, he yelps and drops her. 

However, he brushes off the particular sting and quickly gets on top of her. As always, he is mindful of his size and hers, hovering above her wriggling form, he rests the majority of his weight on his knees and holds her against the floor. 

“GET OFF!” she hollers, kicking and punching him wildly. “YOU BASTARD!”

Maybe Kato is a sick bastard for he finds his cock leaping to life at the sight of her bright green eyes and the curses she hurls his way.

He doesn’t relent, grabbing both her flailing arms in his hands, pinning them to the ground on either side of her face. Avoiding her knees, he settles himself between her legs as his tiny stubborn wife continues screaming in his ear that she’s better and stronger than him and that he’s a bastard and his parents should’ve dumped him the minute he was born. That he’ll be sorry if he doesn’t take back what he had said about her being weak and a terrible shield-maiden. That he better sleep with an eye open for the foreseeable future and his head would be a favourite target to throw her knives at from today onwards. 

A shiver goes down his spine when she manages to free one of her hands to smack him in the chest.

Fuck, he’s missed her. He has missed  _ this _ .

“I mean it, husband!” she hisses, “You’ll be sorry!” 

“Why?” 

“WHY?” she shouts, becoming even more incensed than he thought possible. 

Eagerly, he lowers his head and kisses her, shutting her up before she goes on and on and on. It proves to be effective when Klo tenses before meeting his mouth with equal fervour. Fingers begin to rake through his hair and she squirms underneath him, hips undulating against his when her dress rides up her thighs. No doubt she can feel him, hard and hot and ready through their layers of clothes. 

When he thinks he might run out of air because kissing his wife is seriously an addiction, Kato pulls away, resting his head against her forehead as he slowly reaches down to fumble with the ties of her dress. 

“You fucking bastard,” she mutters against his lips and he laughs, pulling her close. 

She is weaving fabric with her friends when he comes. 

Around her, the women quieten, turning their eyes to her husband who steps into the great hall.

Being the size that he is, Kato looks terribly out of place and that is certainly highlighted with the unsure and hesitant manner he approaches them. The blond is all slow steps and halting movements and Klo doesn’t know why he’s here. 

After breaking fast and perhaps some time spent in their bed, he would be off training, learning from his father and she wouldn’t see him until supper. In short, it is unusual to see him while the sun still shines.

The first thing that comes to mind is her husband being the bearer of bad news. It would explain the conflicting emotions that flashes over his face so quickly that she can’t pin one down. However, for the life of her, Klo can’t think of any possible unfavourable situations. 

Her father is well and whole, (she had spoken to him earlier this morning), her friends were fine and Kato, himself seems alright. The second thing she thinks might have happened is that Kato had done something she would hate. But if so, surely he would wait till after the sun set to inform her of any wrongdoings. 

Things between them had grown after that obedient act she’d put on. 

Kato had lasted much longer than she thought, snapping when she was close to giving up on the whole charade. Keeping her mouth shut and obeying and agreeing with every stupid thing he’d done and said took a toll on her. Klo didn’t think she could take anymore without strangling him the next time he spoke. 

Thank the gods he’d broken earlier than she. 

And for the two whole days they’ve spent indoors. Kato had been unrelenting, deliciously rough and punishing, hips pounding, producing smacking sounds when they met and leaving marks and bruises. But he’d also taken his time worshipping her, trailing impossibly soft kisses, hands gliding and squeezing as he thrusted languorously into her. 

By the third day, Klo was sore all over—albeit in a good way—but she’d threatened the blond with the stripping of his masculinity should he even attempt to touch her the following day. 

Kato had simply laughed and tucked the furs from their bed around them snugly. 

“What is wrong?” she asks, rising to her feet. “Has something happened?”

“No.” He shakes his head and gives a hard look to their audience. “Let’s speak outside.” 

Curiously, she abandons her unfinished project and follows after him. 

“So?” 

“We’ll be leaving to go after the Earl who attacked us.”

She blinks. “When?”

Kato shifts as they walk pass a row of fruit sellers. “Tomorrow morning.”

“I will not be left behin—“

“Yes, you are,” he interjects roughly.

Klo glowers heavily. “I am not just your wife, Kato, I am a shield—“

“Exactly!” he cuts her off and really, she’s getting tired of never being able to finish her sentences. “You are my wife. What if you get hurt? Hmm?”

Her gaze sharpens. “Then it’s the will of the gods.”

“No it is not!” he snaps harshly. “I cannot fight if you’re there—“

“I’m a distraction?” she demands, stopping abruptly in front of a fabric seller. “Is that what you are trying to say?”

“Yes!” His glare deepens. “But not in the way that you think.”

She isn’t given a chance to respond when her husband continues, his shadow falling over her from the overcast sun hanging above them. 

“Besides, I do not doubt your skills. You’ll be one of the remaining warriors and shield-maidens guarding the village should others come here instead when we are away.” 

She scowls, batting his hand away when he tries to sling it around her shoulders.

“Klo.”

Steadfastly, she walks, ignoring his calls and his attempts to gain her attention. However, that all comes to a stop when he tugs her by the arm and yanks her hard. Klo finds herself slamming straight into her husband’s chest, forehead making impact with pure hard muscle. 

“What do you want now?” she hisses, squinting up at him.

“I do not want you to come because I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says earnestly, cupping her cheek with his larger hand. “I cannot bear it.” 

She freezes. Angry retorts and sharp biting words vanishing in her throat. 

This is probably the first time Kato has ever mentioned matters of the heart. Sure, she’s pretty sure things between them have been changing for the better. But never has she allowed herself to think that there might be  _ more _ from her marriage. 

“You’re silent,” he comments, eyes gleaming as a broad grin starts to stretch across his face. “Have I shocked you?”

For once, nothing comes to mind and Klo quickly glances away, hair sweeping past her face. Her cheeks are  _ not _ turning red nor is her heart fluttering. They can’t be! She doesn’t allow it!

Kato laughs, voice booming in the market square as he strolls with her past the stalls and the crowds, no doubt enjoying her inability to speak.

It gets worse when his hand lands on the small of her back as he guides her through the throng of people milling about. She almost jumps from that mere touch, which was ridiculous considering the more intimate exchanges they’ve shared in the privacy of their home. But she can’t help the breathlessness in her lungs from the heat his body gives as he presses close, nor how inviting his touch is on her body. 

_ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _

She chews on her lower lip, doing her best to avoid his smirking face or how he drags his palm lazily over her back. 

This is uncharted territory and Kato knows it. 

Of course, her face gets redder when her husband surprises her with a pretty beaded necklace a few moments later.

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, he places the piece of jewellery over her head, calloused fingers dragging on her over-sensitized skin on the nape of her neck. Klo absolutely hates him for being able to evoke the involuntary shivers her body gives when he does so. It isn’t fair that he’s so attuned to her, that he knows all her secret places that make her weak in the knees. 

“There,” he murmurs in a tone low enough for her to hear. “A pretty necklace for my beautiful wife.”

Typically, the air in her lungs expand and her face flames bright red. 

Klo is caught unaware when their village is invaded once more. 

Kato and his warriors aren’t back yet and she’s in the forest hunting when distant screams and shouts get her attention. Before she can do anything else, the sound of feet crunching through the heavily forested ground announces the arrival of three men she doesn’t recognise. 

From the pattern on their shields, she knows they aren’t from her village. With just her axe and two knives, Klo knows she is sorely outnumbered. But with the way the men are gazing at her, she would rather put up a fight and die than let them have their way with her.

Without waiting, she throws a blade into the throat of the nearest man before lunging at the second, fingers jamming her second knife into his gut repeatedly. However, she has underestimated the reaction of the last man. With a powerful strike across her face, she is stunned. Feet staggering back, she is unable to wrench herself away from his grip. 

Fingers scrambling for the handle of her axe, she squirms, biting at the arm wrapped around her neck. She thinks she might have a good grip on her last remaining weapon when the sharp edge of a sword is thrusted threateningly against her spine. Immediately, she freezes, breath stilling. 

However, the plans of her attacker come to a halt with the arrival of her husband.

“KLO!”

Kato is covered in blood, the crimson liquid sticking to his skin and his clothes. But it is the utter fury on his features that draw her eyes to him. 

Her captor releases her in favour of fighting a better warrior, a more glorious kill but not before giving her another mighty blow on her cheek and slicing her arm with his sword. 

Her husband lets out a roar, eyes alight with the sheer need to kill and hurt as he rushes towards them. 

It is a deadly dance, one that she can’t tear her eyes away from. With the way they both lunge and parry blows, she can tell they are more than evenly matched. But she doubts her attacker can beat the animalistic rage that is Kato. 

Yet, her world comes to a standstill when Kato gets an axe in the face. 

She doesn’t remember shrieking or running over. Nor does she remember how she decapitates the man with cold deadly efficiency with her axe. No. All she can see is Kato collapsing to the ground, rivulets of blood flowing from his wounds and staining the grass red. 

It is a miracle that others from the village have found them a few minutes later. Together, they manage to bring him home with a make-shift carrier and her fretting over his wounds and shallow irregular breathing.

Once they are alone and she has sent for the healer, she gently sweeps the rag over his face, taking extra care of the large cut on his left cheek. The wound is large, searing his flesh from his temple till the edge of his jaw. The rag soon turns bloody, water in the pail turning a murky brown but she doesn’t care. She cleans all his cuts, rinsing them and sealing them shut with a heated blade. The fact that Kato doesn’t stir when she presses burning metal against his skin speaks volumes. 

Anxiously, she changes his bandages, reapplying generous amounts of poultices and ensuring he is hydrated and fed. However, no matter how much care and vigil she keeps, it comes to no one’s surprise when his forehead starts burning up, skin becoming hot to the touch. 

“How is he?” Her father-in-law asks four days later.

She shrugs, running a hand through Kato’s hair before changing the damp rags on his forehead and neck for the third time that day.

“No change?”

“No,” she finally replies, giving her father-in-law a quick glance before turning back to Kato. “Not since he was struck.”

The Earl frowns and he rests a heavy a hand on her shoulder. “You should rest, daughter. When have you last slept?”

Immediately, Klo shakes her head, refusing. If it hadn’t been for Kato, she’d probably be dead, or worse. She can’t leave her husband now, not even for a quick nap. Kato needs her. 

“You must.”

“I can’t.” She presses her lips into a thin line, remembering the healer’s words to ensure Kato’s fever has to break. “Not when he’s this sick.”

The older man sighs but does not argue further. Perhaps, he has seen the determination on her face to not abandon Kato even for a few short minutes. 

“Thank you,” his gravelly voice sounds after a moment. “Thank you for saving and taking care of my son.”

Klo pauses and looks up. “He saved me first.”

“Even so.” 

She doesn’t respond for what else can she say? Klo doesn’t want to think about what could’ve happened had Kato not arrived just in time. 

“Regardless, my future grandchildren are lucky to have you as their mother. Strong, courageous and ferocious. Excellent traits.”

Klo merely offers a wane smile before cradling her husband’s head, fingers brushing his uninjured cheek while willing for him to open those eyes of his and make some stupid remark. Of course, he doesn’t. Simultaneously, she thanks the gods for bringing him back to her and begs them on her knees to save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you so much for reading and enjoy <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i _know_ this is incredibly late but here i am with a 5k+ piece. quick warning for some violence and smut lol. enjoy <3

**iii.**

The last thing Kato expects to see when he wakes is a bedraggled version of his wife who looks all too relieved and glad to see him. So much so, that she gasps, dropping the stack of clothing in her hands and immediately rushes towards him, fingers cupping the back of his head as she smiles at him tearfully.

He doesn’t know what has happened but fuck, he’s not complaining. 

“Klo?” he croaks, hating the dryness in his throat and with it, the growing urge to cough. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks, peering at him closely, eyes scanning over his features frantically as her fingers brush away his hair from his forehead.

“Like I was mauled by Fenrir,” he mutters, shifting and trying to push himself upright. However, the tautness in his torso which is followed by sharp lancing pain streaking through him causes a muted groan and multiple curses to fly from his lips.

“Stop that!” Klo snaps, eyes flashing as she pushes him back down on the bed. “Stay down!” 

He shoots her a deadly glower.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she huffs, getting up on her feet. “You nearly died.”

Whatever retort or argument resting on the tip of his tongue fades at the way Klo’s voice broke in that short sentence. Kato frowns, squinting through the moderately lit up room. “What?”

“Do you not remember?”

He stops, closing his eyes as images of blood and unfamiliar fighters flash through his mind. However, it is the one memory of Klo being violently backhanded and sliced into that made his eyes fly open. As though he was struck by lightning, Kato sits upright, ignoring his body screaming in protest from that one move and pulls his wife towards him. 

“You were hurt."

Klo doesn’t resist his fingers on her face nor the way he peels off the bandage on her arm. Instead she gives him an exasperated glare and settles at his side on the bed. “I’m fine now. It wasn’t anything serious,” she says, brows creasing. “But you almost died. And he cut your face really bad.”

Gingerly, he touches the massive wound on the left side of his face. Kato could feel the ridges of the healing cut, already knowing the scar it left wouldn’t be good to look at. It doesn’t bother him, but a small part of him wonders if Klo would be disgusted.

“Still think I’m pretty?” He raises a brow, eyes never leaving the green ones of his wife. 

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “I never thought you were pretty.” She tilts her head, studying him carefully. “And I won’t start now. But that does give you a certain look.”

“A certain look?” he repeats flatly. “What? Horrifying?”

“That you’re dangerous, formidable, deadly.” She smirks but the smugness on her face soon fades and turns into a look he can’t decipher. “You got that because you saved me,” she adds in a smaller quiet tone that doesn’t quite fit her usual self.

He blinks, not expecting that or the way Klo kisses his other cheek in a manner that makes his heart pound furiously or how she looks at him as though he is Thor himself. When she pulls away, there is no denying the genuine affection or relief in her eyes and Kato is more than taken aback. Stunned into speechlessness, he is half sure that his usual prickly wife has been replaced by Loki.

Of course, he changes his mind when he finds out the restrictions placed on him. Kato will freely admit to being stubborn but Klo takes on a whole new meaning to the word when she literally binds him to the bed when she’d caught him trying to sneak out two nights later. Nevermind how cold the biting wind was, Kato knew he was slowly going mad with all the inactivity and being cooped up like an errant child.

“You need rest!” Klo had barked as she herded him back to the bed, ignoring his arguments and heated snaps before pouring more of those horrible tasting liquids down his throat. 

In return, he could only sulk and give her baleful glares from across the room.

But secretly, he likes this side of her. Kato is absolutely certain of liking the admonishing manner she gives when he deliberately disobeys her rules. Of how she cradles his head in her lap, taking extra care when she changes his bandages and nurses him back to health. It shows that she cares. Plus, he’d never seen her like this before—gentle and nurturing. It makes his gut clench in a good way. 

And as she absentmindedly combs his hair with her fingers and hums something under her breath, her other hand cradling the edge of his jaw, Kato is utterly confident that whatever he feels for his wife is definitely reciprocated even if she isn’t willing to admit to it yet.

* * * * *

Even though she is exhausted beyond belief, having gone through one of the worst and most painful things for women to experience, Klo can’t tear her eyes away from Kato. 

Head propped up by pillows, she watches through heavy-lidded eyes with her heart in her throat as he cradles their newborn son in his arms. 

She thinks her heart might actually cave and sink from the torrent of emotions that bubble up in her chest every few minutes. She may be tired, wanting to shut her eyes and sleep for the rest of her life but she can’t. Not when the minutes that follow Erik’s arrival are so precious and she is resolved to be awake for all of them. 

Klo is older by two summers since she’d married Kato and it is only now that the god, Freyr has blessed them with a child. Truthfully, Klo is just surprised that it’d taken her this long with the way they are in the privacy of their home.

A series of small whimpers and Erik is back in her arms with a slightly antsy looking Kato hovering at her side. “Is he hungry?” he questions, voice adopting a panicky edge as he peers down at the small bundle in her arms. 

Erik, sensing his mother and with it, food, noses eagerly at her chest but unable to find what he’s looking for through the layers of fabric, scrunches his nose up and begins to wail. 

“Klo!” 

She shoots a disgruntled look at her husband who is gazing at her in an accusatory manner as though she is the sole cause of their son’s ire. Not entirely in a mood to pick a battle with Kato — even though she knows she will win — she turns away with a small huff under her breath and unlaces the front of her dress. Slowly, she guides Erik closer and watches as he responds. 

Beside her, Kato is silent and in utter awe as they gaze at the simple sight of their son nursing.

Before the arrival of Erik, Klo would readily admit she isn’t one that would put others first. She is selfish, and if she was given an ultimatum of her own life or someone else’s, she knows she would always pick herself. Self-preservation and all that. But as she strokes the small tufts of blond hair on the boy’s head, Klo knows with great certainty that she would do anything for him. She would kill anyone that poses a threat and give up her own life if need be.

_That_ is how much her priorities had shifted. 

“I want another one.”

Her brows shoot up and she turns to Kato, squinting. “What?”

Her husband meets her eyes as he caresses Erik’s soft downy hair, the action looking odd when his hand entirely engulfs the boy’s head. “I want another one,” he repeats quietly.

Klo snorts, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. You can do the birthing on your own next time. I want no part of it.”

“I didn’t mean  _ now _ ,” he huffs and runs the back of his hand on Erik’s cheek. “In the future. Do you not think he is perfect?”

She purses her lips, gazing at Erik who is now quietly content with gazing around the room in wonder. With his little nose and ears and small parted mouth, Klo can easily tell that he would greatly resemble his father when he is older. A grudging smile makes its way onto her face and she gives a narrowed glare to Kato. “You know I do."

He smirks and without a doubt, she knows that a stupid arrogant remark is about to come up. Hence, she shifts the precious bundle in her arms and hands their son to Kato. The blond grins, a silly awestruck expression taking over his features as he eagerly cradles Erik into his arms. 

Klo stares, her heart aching so sweetly from the mere image of her huge, scarred husband holding their son with such care and tenderness and —  She inhales sharply, furiously blinking back the emotional tears forming in her eyes. There must be something in the water, she decides. Surely she isn’t so silly to be crying over  _ thi _ s. 

Just then, Kato looks up and flashes a large smile, white teeth glinting, bright blue eyes full of joy and disbelief and if it’s possible, her heart swells even more. 

She’d never been so wrong about a person before. Sure, Kato was and still is overbearing and arrogant but she’d learnt there is so much more to him than that. Her husband is honest, protective and above all, he trusts and listens to what she has to say and feel. Furthermore, he respects her and her opinions and she treasures that the most considering the unequal treatment of her sex. And no matter what she’d thought in the past, Kato is — mostly — easygoing and playful in nature, readily complementing her demanding and prickly nature. 

Biting her lower lip as she takes in the sight of Kato making more silly faces and cooing over their son, Klo starts to wonder if what she feels for him is love.

* * * * *

“You can’t leave. Not now,” Klo says grimly, eyes fixed on the furious pacing form of her husband. 

“And why not?” he demands, whirling on his heel to face her, pinning her with a heavy glower. “My father is dead because of them! They will have to pay! Blood with blood!”

“I understand,” she answers soothingly, walking up to him. “But your father is now in Valhalla, drinking with the gods and dining at Odin’s right —”

”So you want me to let my father’s murderer walk away freely?” Kato’s voice is incredulous, taking on an accusative edge and Klo understands where the anger is coming from, but that doesn’t mean she likes being the target of it.

“Lower your voice. You’re going to wake the children,” she snaps as he begins pacing across their floor once again. 

Kato grunts, raking a hand over his face in a manner she recognises is designed to show his exasperation and annoyance with her. Nevertheless, the volume of his voice is lowered when he speaks. “If you do not want me to get justice, what the hell do you think I should do?”

She stares flatly at him, crossing her arms. “Solidify your position as Earl.”

“How?” he scoffs, raising his brows mockingly as he, too, crosses his arms and cocks his head.

Sometimes, Klo thinks the gods are testing her when Kato behaves like an adolescent child nearing manhood instead of the formidable warrior and Earl he is supposed to be. Though, she can let this slide considering the latter mantle is something he has only been for two days. Coupled with the recent passing of his father, well... She just prays and asks for the gods to grant her more patience.

“By staying here,” she explains evenly. “Now that your father is in Valhalla and you, Earl, you have to show the people that you’re here to stay, hence, giving stability to the village,” she continues, moving towards their dining table to sit. 

Kato still has that stubborn tilt to his mouth but he’s silent, listening.

“You’ve only been in charge for two days and you’ve not proven why you should be Earl. Yes, you are a good fighter and have protected and defended everyone more than once but that isn’t a good enough reason. If that is so, anyone can be Earl.” She shrugs. “Regardless of you being your father’s heir, there will be others to challenge you. Your position is too shaky and what is more, you are considered young and inexperienced. If you leave right now to avenge your father, you and the Earldom will be more than vulnerable.”

Her husband lowers his eyes and his shoulders slump. “So you think I have to give up on getting justice for my father.” 

_ “No,  _ you wait,” she corrects, eyeing him critically. 

Blue eyes flick up to face her and she sighs, feeling horrible and guilty for being so abrupt and dismissive of his grief. How can she truly understand what he’s feeling when she’d never lost a loved one before? Pursing her lips, she gets to her feet and slides her palms up his chest to jerk his chin down, enabling him to meet her gaze.

“While you’re solidifying your position as Earl, getting rid of those who oppose your rule, you’re also lulling the men who killed your father into a false sense of security. They will grow careless, thinking you have given up on retribution, but really, you are just waiting for the right time to strike. And when that time comes, they will be easy pickings.” 

He is quiet, gaze earnest as pride and acceptance starts to settle in his bright eyes. “You’re right,” he murmurs, a calloused hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You are absolutely right.” 

“Of course I am,” she declares haughtily, jutting her lower lip out. “I am your wife.” 

Kato laughs and ducks his head. “A fact which I am very thankful for.” 

She snorts at his terrible attempt at flattery before pushing herself away. However, before she can do so, familiar arms wrap themselves around her waist, pulling her into the comforting warm embrace of her husband. Kato doesn’t have to say a single word for her to know what he wants. And honestly, she wants him too. 

Klo misses him, misses his lingering touches, the warm weight of his body sliding against hers. Mostly, she misses his arms around her in the aftermath while they talk. Never had she thought she'd be one of those women but when Kato pulls her close and begins sharing about his day, she listens attentively, enjoying his presence and how his voice and steady heart lulls her to sleep. Not that she will ever admit it. She doesn’t need Kato to be more arrogant and annoying than he already is. 

With the recent birth of their daughter, Frida as well as their two sons, they have their arms full. Now, Kato and her are mostly too tired for anything other than sleep but with the three of them all in bed now… She shivers and bites her lower lip, pressing back against him.

He moans, laving hot kisses on her neck as a hand glides up to tug at the laces of her dress. His leg nudges between her thighs and she obliges, more than willing when he tries to lift her dress upwards.

Even though desire is a coiling heat in her abdomen and all she can think about is her husband, Klo’s ears are well-trained for any slight disturbance in her surroundings. The sound of tiny footsteps and another set of louder ones catches her attention. 

She groans in frustration and pins a glare at the dimly lit doorway. “Erik! Lief!” 

Behind her, Kato curses and reluctantly pulls away, but not before pressing one last kiss on the side of her neck. 

Klo doesn’t react, eyes firmly fixed on the sight of her two sons shuffling sheepishly towards them. The urge to smile and cuddle both of them rises, especially when both of them adopt wide-eyed innocent expressions that are terribly reminiscent of their father’s.

Despite the years, they’ve been married, Kato still likes to think that he can attempt to charm his way out of anything--an illusion that Klo loves to shatter when he gives her one of those toothy grins their sons are currently sporting.

“What are you two doing up so late?” She questions sternly, resolute in her decision to be the disciplinarian in their household. 

“We gots hungry,” Her elder offers, scuffing the toes of his left boot on the ground, while his younger brother peers up shyly from his side. 

“Of course, you are. You’re growing boys,” Kato booms proudly before lifting them up in his arms and carries them into the adjoining room where they keep their supplies. “And growing boys need to be fed!”

Giggles and shrieks begin to sound and Klo sighs, a smile tugging on her lips as she watches her husband play with their sons. This time, she does not bother telling them to quieten. Unlike her brothers, Frida sleeps like the dead, only waking when she wants something.

For now, Klo is content, despite the approaching storm that her father-in-law’s death had left in his wake. 

Unfortunately, like what she’d predicted, there are those who still oppose Kato’s right to reign as Earl even though he has proven himself more than capable despite their subtle political manoeuvring. Typically, they thought he was too young, inexperienced and impulsive. All of which are considered terrible traits for an Earl to have. 

“Be careful,” she mutters, handing him his armour. “Don’t get too arrogant. And do not underestimate your opponent.” 

“I won’t,” he says soberly, buckling the straps and tucking his axe at his side. “The children won’t be there?” 

She shakes her head. “It isn’t safe. You know that. Two of our handmaidens are with them now in the forest.”

Kato nods grimly. “Good. Take them and run if the gods decide to take me to Valhalla today. I doubt they or you would be spared.” 

Her chest squeezes at that mere statement and Klo clenches her fists. “You are not going to die today!” she snaps fiercely, eyes promising retribution to anyone who dares to offer a contrary remark to her declaration. “The children will see you later. Alive and well.”

Her husband merely offers one last crooked smile before he gathers her into his arms and kisses her as though it’s the last time he gets to. And then he is off, walking out of their home with steely determination and cold ruthlessness etched on his features. 

Klo doesn’t miss the way their people watch him as they begin to make their way to the heart of their village. Dimly, as she trails behind Kato, she wonders if her children would remember their father if he was slain today. With how young Frida and Leif are, she doubts it. But with Erik being five summers old and idolising Kato as though he is Odin himself, she mourns. 

Hushed whispers and voices of dissent increase in volume when her husband’s challenger barges past the crowds and into the cleared empty space in the center of the village square. Hands clasped together, she studies him with disdain. The older man was infamously known for his constant clashes with her late father-in-law. Clearly, he thought that with the late Earl out of the way, her husband would be easily disposed off, hence, clearing the way for his own ascension to power.

With her heart in her throat, she watches as the two men begin to parry blows with their axes, ducking when needed while blocking potentially fatal blows with their shields. Kato’s eyes are narrowed, mouth pursed into a thin line that spoke of grim determination and fury. Unlike instances where she’d fought with him or observed him fighting with his men, she does not enjoy this. 

A sharp burst of air is expelled from her lungs when the blade of an axe is pressed into the side of Kato’s neck. But with him being quick on his feet, the blond twists and jams his knee upwards into the older man’s gut before grabbing him into a chokehold. 

Without a doubt, Klo knows that this would only end if one of them is dead. A fight to the death. 

Unfortunately for Kato, his adversary is not only known for his conflicting views, but for his skills on the battlefield. The quick fight Klo had hoped for is now a long drawn out affair that leaves her on edge, nerves strained and rattled. Around her, the people are silent, their attention on the two males grappling with each other for the upper hand. By now, Kato isn’t faring too well. His lower lip is bruised and swollen, a bleeding wound adorns his right temple and with the way he’s clutching his side, Klo suspects that his ribs are cracked.

Silently, she prays to the gods that they grant her husband with a swift victory. 

Seizing the chance at Kato’s mistake of showing his weakness, the older man snarls and lunges forward, driving Kato to the edge before landing several blows at his chest. 

Not for the first time, Klo is glad that the children aren’t here to see this. Every part of her being wants to charge through to defend and attack, to help block those blows, but knowing the repercussions, she inhales shakily and straightens her spine, forcing her feet to remain where they are. 

Across her, Klo spots Markvard and Kato’s other friends observing the challenge with grim faces. Abruptly, Markvard meets her gaze and offers her a tentative reassuring smile, which hardly dissipates the mounting worry and anxiety whenever Kato lets out a grunt or a groan.

She is broken out of her thoughts when a large portion of the villagers shout and cheer. Klo’s eyes snap towards the front, just in time to see Kato sidestep a kick before twisting his body to the right as his opponent misses him by mere inches. 

With his opponent off-balanced, Kato grabs the opportunity to land a swift cutting blow to his face and not relenting once, he continues, raining punches and hits to the man’s weak spots. And with renewed strength and quick but precise lunge, the blade of his axe lands into the man’s chest, cutting through armour and piercing through flesh. 

For a moment, her husband’s challenger flounder, eyes wide with shock, mouth dropping open and Klo takes a step forward and she begins to wonder if the gods had blessed this man to depose her husband considering he is still upright on his feet and isn’t dying or bleeding —

As if on cue, crimson viscous liquid starts to drip and bubble from his mouth. With that, he drops to his knees and Klo observes with dark satisfaction as Kato yanks his axe out and ends the man’s life with another brutal jerk of his wrists. She doesn’t look away as the beheaded figure slumps to the ground in an undignified heap. In fact, Klo savours the sight. 

The man deserved nothing less. 

Proudly and all too relieved, Klo exhales heavily, feeling as though she has aged more than ten summers in a few minutes. Of course, with the crowd cheering, she does not outwardly show how affected she’d been by the violent display, and simply bows with everyone when the Seer steps forward to declare Kato as their Earl. 

Unsurprisingly, it is now Kato’s turn to drop to his knees from fatigue and blood loss and hurriedly, she pushes past everyone else to run to him. Despite how filthy he is, caked in mud and blood and sweat, she tugs him close, allowing him to lean upright against her to release the pressure off his knees as the healers begin to congregate around them. 

Amidst the murmurs and congratulations and enquiries about his health, Klo hugs him tightly — _ closely _ , her hands wrapping around his broad shoulders carefully, mindful of the injuries he’d sustained. Brushing his hair out of his face to trail her fingers along the puckered skin of the scar on his face, she can’t help the sudden rush of emotions that clog up her throat.

Although he has emerged victorious, Klo is fully aware of how close she’d been to losing  _ everything _ today. And with that knowledge, she holds him tighter and presses a tender kiss to his scarred cheek. 

“I love you,” she murmurs softly,  _ impulsively _ .

Kato’s breathing is laboured and uneven, his blue eyes slightly glazed over and Klo doubts that he’s actually heard her.

But of course, her stubborn impossible husband removes all trace of that uncertainty when his chest suddenly heaves at her declaration and his grip on her arms tighten. And although he is bloodied, bruised and terribly wretched, the smile he gives is absolutely stunning and it chases away the horrors of the day.

* * * * *

He eyes the lump in the bed.

Gingerly, he heaves himself beside the fur-covered form and scans his gaze over his wife. 

“Klo?”

“What?”

He snorts at the sharpness and annoyance from just that one word. 

“Are you not feeling well?” he prompts, taking note of the slightly dark circles around her eyes and the unusual paleness of her face. Plus, it doesn’t escape his notice that she’d gone to bed directly after putting their children to sleep. 

“No,” she huffs, voice muffled from almost being buried under what he suspects are four layers of furs. 

He doesn’t respond, hands already sliding under a wolf fur, searching for soft warm flesh. He thinks he’s found her waist when Klo sits up straight to glare at him. 

“I’m tired,” she enunciates slowly, swatting his roaming hands away when he manages to pull her flush against his form. 

“Tired?” he frowns, eyes on the ties of her dress while his mind brings up memories of what Klo looks and feels like under his palms. “What from?”

“Your children,” she says flatly, pushing at his chest. “I’m tired and I want to sleep.”

“They’re not that bad,” he protests.

She shoots him an arched look, gaze narrow as if he’s another misbehaving child from the village. 

His cock twitches. 

“They are when your boys take after their father’s childish and playful ways while your daughter is as curious as they come.”

Kato starts to argue but thinking on how Erik had almost drowned from trying to fish in the sea and how Lief had been close to being trampled by a boar—and all that was just yesterday, he winces and clamps his mouth shut. 

“That’s what I thought.” Klo tilts her chin and tosses her hair over her shoulders. “And not to mention, your fourth child is giving me a headache and a stomach upset.” 

With that, his wife sniffs, eyes him sharply before burying herself back under the covers. Although by now, Kato has noted she’d inched closer to him while they’ve been speaking. 

However, all thoughts of seducing his wife has left his head at the news she’d just dropped into his lap.

Frantically, he whips back the furs, tossing them to the ground so that he can press his hands against the small swell on Klo’s belly.

“Another?” he croaks, eyes getting suspiciously wet. 

His sweet, loving wife simply scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yes. With how slow your brain works, it’s a miracle you are still Earl.”

Ignoring the barb, he gently traces the burgeoning bump. Feeling the hardness that is his child under taut skin makes this even better a reality. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs into her skin, lips pressing against her clothed abdomen fervently as he rubs soothing patterns on her slightly curved belly. “Thank you for her.”

“Her?” Klo raises a brow. “Not another son?”

“No.” Kato flicks his eyes up to meet hers. “Not another misbehaving child for you to worry about.”

His wife makes a disbelieving snort but lies back against the bed, small fingers carding through his hair as he whispers promises and his utter devotion to his unborn daughter. 

“You will be disappointed,” she informs him, a slow smile spreading across her cheeks. “It’s a boy.”

“How would you know?”

“You think I don’t know what’s inside of me?” his tiny feisty wife demands.

“I thought you were tired,” he retorts teasingly. “How are you still arguing with me?”

Klo scowls and yanks at his hair in retaliation but says nothing. 

He chuckles lowly, hands creeping down her sides to her thighs. Eyes never moving away from hers, he slowly parts them running the pads of his thumbs along her length, settling between her legs.

“Kato,” she begins warningly but he can see her pupils dilating, mouth parting as she leans back against the headboard with ill-disguised interest. 

Stubborn little thing. 

Slowly, he lowers his head, pressing languid kisses along the soft skin of her knees. His only goal to make Klo lose her sense of control, to hear her whimpers and quiet sighs, to feel her body arch under his. 

He inches closer, skimming his mouth against her inner thighs, moving ever so closely to where she’s hot and slick. The sensation of his hair being gripped tightly causes him to smirk. Pushing up the hem of her dress, his fingers graze her quivering sex. 

When Klo squirms and begins to undulate her hips, that’s when he strikes.

He pulls away, ignoring her silent pleas for  more  with barely-there kisses, avoiding her guiding hands and only granting her verbal requests with soft touches that barely satisfy.

“Enough!” she snaps after a moment, gazing at him angrily, her cheeks pink. “If you don’t stop teasing!”

He resists laughing. After three pregnancies, he knows better than to do so. Klo’s aim has never wavered or missed despite her larger size and the ways she’d gotten back at him ensures his silence. He doesn't like sleeping on the floor. Nor does he like the silent treatment. And with years worth of experience, he knows Klo is able to hold a grudge comparable to that of the gods.

Hence, he finally gives her what she wants. With a sharp snap of his hips, he is plunged deep within her, soft silky walls gripping him so tightly his breathing becomes shaky.  _ Never _ , he grunts, sliding out before pushing back in, would he ever tire of this, of being buried to the hilt in his wife, of Klo herself.

A breathy moan reaches his ears just as sharp tight pain lances through his back. The contrary mix of pain and pleasure zips through his nerve endings, creating a torrent of sensation he knows he never wants to leave.

“Kato,” his wife sighs, meeting his rapidly quickening thrusts with her hips, her fingers digging deeply into his back. “Faster.” 

How can he not oblige Klo when she begs so prettily? With him being an obedient _and_ thoughtful husband, he does. 

When they are spent, their sweat-slicked bodies entwined beneath furs and with Klo’s head resting on his bicep, Kato takes her noticeably smaller hand in his and draws it to his mouth. Giving a lingering kiss on the back of her palm, he then rubs it on his cheek. 

“I eternally thank the gods for granting you in my life and for giving me my children.”

Kato doesn’t need to see Klo’s face to know that she’s rolling her eyes.

“Exceptionally sappy today, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” he says, shifting his body so he could look down at her, all flushed and glowy from his attention. “How could I not? I found out I'm going to be a father again.”

“You have been a father since Erik was born,” she points out dryly.

He gives her a flat look. “Klo.” 

She snickers and rubs his cheek in a manner he deems lovingly. A kiss is pressed to his chest as she cuddles closer, face burying into his skin. 

“I thank the gods too.” Her voice is muffled but Kato doesn’t miss the words that leave her mouth.

Contented beyond belief, he brushes his lips against the crown of her head, an arm wrapped around her tiny waist as his fingers rest over the barely-there bump.

The gods have indeed blessed him.

\- fin -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for reading and for being patient with me to work things out for the conclusion of this fic. once again, your comments mean the world to me! <3 
> 
> also, i might venture into other pairings from other fandoms and it's okay to unsub from me! just a warning but i'm not too sure if this would actually happen anyway hahaha. but we'll see.
> 
> love, s


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